


Dare

by siriusblue



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Lingerie, M/M, Married mystrade, Short One Shot, lost wager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 19:58:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriusblue/pseuds/siriusblue
Summary: Never, ever bet with Greg Lestrade unless you're willing to pay the price.





	Dare

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after the day from hell to cheer myself up. It's short, it's steamy and made me smile again.

  1. DARE

  


Marriage is a gamble but Mycroft still has a lesson to learn.Never, ever bet against Greg Lestrade unless you're willing to pay the price.

  


Mycroft looked at his husband, but there was no mercy in his dark brown eyes, no hope of reprieve, just the widest smile Mycroft had ever seen on his handsome face.

  


“So what do you have planned for me?” he asked.

  


Greg shrugged but there was now a twinkle in his eye that Mycroft had long since learned meant mischief.

  


“Dunno. I'll think of something. It'll have to be spectacular, I mean how many times have I ever proved you wrong?”

  


Mycroft sighed and rubbed his face with his hands

  


“Fine.  Just one caveat, if I may. Don't involve Sherlock.”

  


“Wouldn't dream of it, gorgeous. I mean, you made me to the dusting naked last time. And the time before that, I could only speak French for a whole day.”

  


Mycroft smiled at the memory.

  


“You have a very sexy French accent, Gregoire “ he teased. “And I love how your bum wiggles when you try to reach the high shelves with the feather duster. Oh, I'm going to suffer, aren't I? “

  


Greg's smile was positively evil now.

  


“Believe it,” he said.

  


As luck would have it, one of Greg's cases took him up West that day. As he was heading back to his car he spotted the shop and grinned to himself. It was too good an opportunity to miss. 

  


The sales assistant was extremely helpful and he left five minutes later, considerably poorer, clutching a tiny, exquisite black and gold gift bag.

  


Over dinner that night, to Mycroft’s mounting horror, Greg explained his forfeit.

  


“The whole day?” wailed Mycroft.

  


“The whole day,” confirmed Greg. “Look on the bright side, love. Only you and I will know.”

  


Mycroft groaned theatrically.

  


The next morning Mycroft was up extremely early and it was the hiss of the shower jets that woke Greg. Seeing his husband wearing only a towel was a perfect enough sight any day of the week, but this day had extra spice to it.

  


“Don't forget,” said Greg sleepily, pointing to the La Perla gift bag on the dressing table.

  


Mycroft glared at him and stalked off to his dressing room without comment, gift bag in hand.

  


“Oh, Gregory! You cannot be serious!” 

  


“You promised, gorgeous.” said Greg firmly. There was no reply.

  


Chuckling to himself, Greg turned over in the warm bed to try and get some more sleep.

  


Occasionally throughout the busy day Greg wondered how Mycroft was handling his forfeit and the thought made him smile. At six o'clock as he was about to leave, his phone buzzed. It was a text message from Mycroft.

  


Unavoidably detained by PM. Doubtful I'll make it home before 10. Sorry. M xx

  


Greg was disappointed but took the opportunity to slob out on the sofa in a t-shirt and jogging pants with a beer, a takeaway pizza and a couple of episodes of Firefly.

  


He was just starting to feel drowsy when the front door slammed shut.

  


“Gregory Holmes-Lestrade, I am never, ever betting with you again!”

  


Greg recognised that tone of voice and the use of his full name and he knew he was in trouble, but what kind remained to be seen.

  


Mycroft walked into their living room and Greg felt his breath catch in his throat.

  


Mycroft was wearing his most severely-cut pinstripe suit with all the accessories that went with it and Greg watched, mesmerized, as Mycroft toed off his shoes and socks as his hands pulled off and discarded his tie.

  


“All day I've been stuck in boring meetings with some of the world's most powerful people,” said Mycroft as he unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt,  pulled them off  and let them crumple to the floor.

  


“Of all the days to pick for me to spend in lingerie it had to be today.”

  


Greg could hardly breathe, he was so turned on.

  


“All day spent with raw silk wrapped around my most intimate areas. Do you have any idea how distracting that was?”

  


“Not as distracting as you stripping for me,” said Greg, his voice rough with desire

  


Mycroft ignored him as he unbuckled his belt and slid off his trousers, standing in front of his husband naked, except for a pair of midnight-blue silk knickers edged in lace. The contrast between his pale skin and the underwear was simply breathtaking.

  


“ I insist that you take them off!” said Mycroft.

  


“Jesus!” breathed Greg, getting to his feet. “ I never imagined just how sexy you would look in those. Turn round.”

  


Mycroft huffed but did as he asked so Greg could ogle the way the silk clung to the curve of his arse. 

  


When he turned again, Greg was kneeling before him, an almost worshipful expression in his face.

  


“You're fucking beautiful,” moaned Greg, his face pressed against Mycroft’s belly, kissing all the way down to his groin, his fingers ghosting over the delicate bone crescents in his hips, spurred on by Mycroft's hands in his hair and the fractured, breathy sounds Mycroft made as Greg's warm tongue caressed him through gossamer-thin silk.

  


“Gregory, take them off!” pleaded Mycroft before he lost control completely.

  


“My pleasure,”  smiled Greg, his thumbs already hooked in the flimsy material, just waiting for his husband to beg.





End file.
